Maelgwn stared at the mountain in the distance, readying for his journey. He placed the last dagger in its sheath on his wrist, put out his morning cookfire and returned to the others, only a few minutes walk away. Alfaara smiled at his return, already complete in her meditation. The small scouting party of the Imperial Army started on their walk through the Red Valley, the autumn leaves rustling overhead. A chill breeze made the trees whisper, talking quietly amongst themselves about things with which only trees are concerned.

Maelgwn stopped, his heightened senses indicating a small patrol moving in formation not far off. The scouts, all Elven, scattered into the trees, blending in with the foliage. The footfall of the squad drew closer, the calls of the leader was loud and angry.

“Find them, I said!” He shouted, his face nearly purple with rage behind a bristling beard, a helmet nearly obscuring his tiny, piggish eyes.

“Yes- yes, sir!” A tiny soldier squeaked, “The children will be found!”